JINAN, Feb. 5 (Xinhua) -- Get home for the Chinese New Year, whether you've made money or not.

    The theme of a comic playlet that has been short listed as one of the highlights in the Lunar New Year evening gala on China Central Television on Wednesday night best describes the burning desire of the country's migrant millions.

    Kinship also explains why, in face of the worst China winter storm in five decades, more than one million travelers would rather be stranded in buses, trains or at railway stations for a week than stay where they were during the holiday.

    For many, even to be stranded is lucky -- at least it means you've been paid, got a hard-won ticket, and started on the way home.     

　　"IF ONLY WE WERE PAID ON TIME"

    Xie Jun is likely to see in the Chinese Year of Rat on the train on Thursday, alone.

    However, the 35-year-old carpenter was relieved his boss finally paid him on Tuesday. "He owed me more than 10,000 yuan (1,390 U.S. dollars)," says Xie. "I know he was having difficulty getting paid by his boss."

    Xie, a native of the southwestern Sichuan Province, has been working at construction sites in Jinan, capital of the eastern Shandong Province, for three years. Like most migrant construction workers, he gets paid toward the end of the lunar year, always too late to get home for the event.

    He was among more than 170 migrants to stage a sit-in on Jan. 22, in a desperate attempt to get their pay and catch a homebound train in time.

    The protestors blocked the entrance to the main contractor's office building, demanding immediate pay. The sit-in ended in a conflict with security guards, and six injured workers.

    "We don't know much about laws and rights," says Xie as he justifies his actions. "One thing is certain: my work has to pay. If only they had paid me on time, I'd have been home."

    The protest worked. Over the past two weeks, overdue bills were paid from top to bottom in the hierarchy of contractors and laborers. Xie and his colleagues were at the bottom.

    In the New Year, Xie hopes each city will open a hotline to hear migrants' complaints about unpaid wages. "Rights workers should visit us at construction sites and tell us who to turn to for help."

    More importantly, wages should be paid on a monthly basis instead once a year, he says.     

　　EASIER JOURNEY HOME

    Xie and five co-workers took turns queuing at the ticket window for a whole night, but couldn't secure a seat on the train. This means they had to stand, or crouch in a crowded corner, for more than 20 hours.

    He considers himself lucky. "It's better than nothing. I don't mind a tiring journey as long as I can get home."

    Unable to board a direct train to Sichuan, Xie's fellow villager Wei Jiazhi had to take a train to Shaanxi Province in the northwest first. Wei was paid in time, but had to linger for two weeks in Jinan waiting for a ticket.

    A train ride home is particularly tough for Zhu Youjun, from the Tibet Autonomous Prefecture of Aba in Sichuan. "I need to take a 24-hour train to Chengdu, a 24-hour bus ride to the county seat and another five hours by bus home."

    Most of the migrants Xinhua interviewed say they hope railway stations will reserve some tickets for them, and more trains can be arranged to the leading source provinces of migrant laborers during the travel peak.

    "We hope the once-a-year journey home will be easier," says Zhu.     

　　LIFE IS BEAUTIFUL

    Li Buyun jokes he lives like a monk.

    Two days before the Chinese New Year's Day, he had the same meagre lunch on Tuesday at the staff canteen of his construction site -- four "mantou" (steamed buns) and a bowl of Chinese cabbage.

    Throughout the year the diet rarely changes, unless the alternation of potatoes and radishes counts. Meat is seldom served.

    Li doesn't mind the quality of the food, but he cares about the quality of his life.

    For less than 300 yuan (42 U.S. dollars), he bought a second-hand DVD player and a small black-and-white TV. "Just to kill time," he says.

    Having finished junior high school, the 56-year-old from the outskirts of Tengzhou City, Shandong, is considered an "intellectual" by his peers. Thanks to his good handwriting he makes some money writing festive couplets for the villagers during the Chinese New Year.

    No one appreciates his talent or needs his couplets at the construction site, where life is monotonous: the workers get up before 6:00 am and work from 6:30 am till dark. The young workers chat the evenings away, play mah-jong and sometimes gamble.

    "We don't have any other means of passing the time," says Li's co-worker, Liu Huaiyong. "It's always the same pattern: work, eat and sleep. The boss doesn't care if we get bored, but we hope the government does."